Warning Sign
by MusicInMyHeart
Summary: This was written just after the end of season one and goes AU from there. Veronica is driving a drunk Logan home after months of not seeing him. I originally intended this to be a one shot, but a lot of response prompted me to continue. R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Warning Sign  
**Rating:** T for some naughty words.  
**Pairing:** Logan & Veronica  
**Spoilers:** Up to the end of season one.  
**Summary:** After months of not seeing each other, Veronica ends up giving him a drive home. Everything that had been building between the two begins to boil over.  
**Author's Note:** I wrote this a while back during the summer but never had the chance to finish it. I came across it tonight and thought, 'Might as well get this thing completed. It beats doing homework!' Also, Rob Thomas is a genius. I own nothing. Originally, I wrote this to be a one-shot. But with the outpouring of people asking me to continue prompted me to write a little more.

* * *

**Chapter One**

"You could have called."

Weevil had called her earlier tonight. He found Logan at a seedy bar just outside of town. Veronica couldn't tell if he was half drunk or near death. Maybe it was both.

Logan was slumping on the passenger side seat of her car, the left side of his face plastered against her window. He smelled of alcohol and trashy women. He felt his head pound with every pulse of his veins and was on the verge of lurching every last bit of his earlier antics. Now was not the time for a heart to heart.

Veronica never played by the rules though. She always called the shots. But not this time.

"You could have written. Sent me an e-mail. _Something_!"

"Sorry. Guess my postcard got lost in the mail. It said 'Greetings from Hell. Wish you were here!'"

The car was silent for a few moments. Tension filled the small compact space. Neither of its occupants knew where to start. Neither of them wanted to bring up the past. But it was inevitable. Sooner or later they were going to have to face their problem head on. She knew it. He knew it.

It had been six months since they last saw each other. It was the night Veronica was attacked and nearly killed by the same man who killed her best friend. His girlfriend. It was the same night she accused him of the crime in the first place.

"How's your dad doing?"

She smiled at the mention of her father. "He's doing good. His scars are beginning to heal." She paused for a moment. "Mine too."

"Are you going to go all 'Movie of The Week' on me? I already feel like I want to hurl. I don't need another reason." He shifted in his seat and fully sat up.

"Well I wouldn't want _that_. I just cleaned the interior."

Logan refused to answer. He wasn't reason to respond to those types of questions.Veronica seemed to get the hint and decided to stay quiet. 'This is a rarity in life,' he thought.

The silence was deafening. Not being able to take it any more Veronica turned on the CD player. Coldplay blared through the speakers. Before you knew it, she began to mentally kick herself for playing the one song that defined everything that couldn't be said. Strangely enough, she couldn't force herself to turn it off.

_A warning sign  
I missed the good part then I realized  
I started looking and the bubble burst  
I started looking for excuses  
Come on in, I've gotta tell you what a state I'm in  
I've gotta tell you in my loudest tones  
That I started looking for a warning sign  
When the truth is  
I miss you  
Yeah the truth is  
That I miss you so_

"He wanted to get back together. Duncan, I mean. After finding out that I wasn't his sister, he figured things could go back to the way they used to be. But I'm not the same Veronica he used to love." She glanced up into his eyes lovingly. "I'm not _his_ Veronica."

"Fuck this." His heart couldn't take the lyrics that hit too close to home any longer. His hand reached for the power button and switched it off angrily.

Veronica glanced back at him for a moment. Her fingers itched to turn it back on. So she did.

_Warning sign  
You came back to haunt me and I realized  
That you were an island and I passed you by  
And you were an island to discover  
Come on in, I've gotta tell you what a state I'm in  
I've gotta tell you in my loudest tones  
That I started looking for a warning sign_

"Stop it," he said in a calm voice. Almost too calm. "Turn it off."

Veronica did not say a word. Her only reaction was to turn the volume louder.

_And the truth isI miss you  
Yeah the truth is  
I miss you so  
And I'm tired  
I should not have let you go_

The pounding headache from his earlier antics was growing. He knew what she was doing. She was trying to get some sort of reaction out of him.

_So I crawl back into your open arms  
Yes I crawl back into your open arms  
And I crawl back into your open arms  
Yes I crawl back into your open arms._

Logan watched as she turned the volume higher. If she wanted him pissed off, she was doing damn good job at it. Veronica glanced back at him with a smug look upon her face. He felt his anger begin to rise as she pushed a button for the song to replay.

"Pull over."

"What?"

"I said, pull the fuck over."

"Logan, just..."

"Now!"

The car had not even come to a complete stop when he opened the passenger side door and jumped out. As he began to walk a few yards, he realized they were at Dog Beach. His mind began to flood with flashes of that afternoon.

"_So I guess we broke up, huh?"_

"_What do you want me to say, Logan?"_

_"'Logan, I'm gonna go home and put my head in the oven because I can't go on living knowing what a heartless _bitch_ I am.' Something like that!"_

"_So you're saying you want me dead?"_

"Yes_."_

Never in his wildest dreams did Logan believe his words would come true. His own father had the ability to kill his first love. Then tried to kill his second. The guilt had been eating away at his soul for months. The only way to escape the demons inside of him was Jack Daniels, someone he was beginning to become quite acquainted with. His brown liquid of debauchery was his salvation.

His hand reached for his pocket to his flask and began to twist off its cap. Just as he was about to take another swig of its numbing contents, a hand reached out and pulled it out of his grasp.

"What the fuck are you doing? Do you have a death wish or something?"

The words came flying out of his mouth before he could stop them.

But Veronica's face remained stoic. "That's funny. You said just about the same thing that night." She watched him stumble to the sand and put his head in his hands. "What was it again? To shove my head in an oven?"

"You never _do_ listen to what people tell you to do." He glanced at his watch. "Gee golly, Nancy Drew, I'm having the best time with this conversation but I have to get home. Mom and Dad said we could do charades tonight if I did all of my homework. Have to keep up with the honor roll, you know."

She winced at the venom of his words. "Logan . . ."

Logan looked up at her anguished filled face. Anger began to rise within him. What right did she have to feel sad? "Don't you do that. Don't you _fucking _do that!" He pointed a finger at her angrily to add effect. His body swaggered slightly, not being able to keep his balance well.

"Do wh..."

He cut her off before she was able to ask. "Don't you dare make me look like the fucking asshole in all of this. This is _my_ script and you don't get to be the saint." He lifts his hands in a straight line and evenly spreads them apart. Laughter that was cynical and filled with hurtfulness filled the air. "The camera zooms in on our young heroine in her lowest moment. The music begins to pick up. The lyrics filled with sadness and heartache."

He grabbed the flask from her hands as he picked himself off his feet and took a long swig. He couldn't feel the burning sensation it once gave him as it poured down his throat. He was beginning the feel numb. Painless. It was exactly what he needed.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Veronica Mars! Humanitarian of the year and royal pain in my ass. A round of applause," he slurred. He slowly clapped to add effect to his words. He swayed back and forth but fell back down in the sand, too intoxicated to stand on his own.

Veronica watched him self destruct and a little piece died inside of her. Her mind was telling her she couldn't watch anymore. She knew if she left now, though, nothing could ever be repaired. Instead of turning away, she kneeled down beside him. She took a long look at his facial features. He hadn't shaved in weeks. The dark circles and bags under his eyes indicated he was worn out physically and had lacked a good night's sleep. He looked like he had been to hell and back.

And that wasn't just a saying anymore. Not when it defined _their_ lives.

She lifted his left arm over her shoulder and began to pull his body upward. She had to get him back indoors before somebody caught him in this compromising position and alerted the media. And Logan didn't need any more attention like that.

Her actions stopped when she felt his other hand begin to stroke the satin-smooth skin of her cheek. The simple gesture brought her to tears once more. She leaned into his touch, turning her head and kissing the palm of his hand.

God she missed this. She missed _him_.

"I could have loved you," he whispered before passing out.

She couldn't hold it in any longer. The emotions came flooding out. Hot tears of anger, resentment and love rolled down her cheeks. He was slowly killing himself and she didn't know how to stop him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Warning Sign  
**Rating:** T for some naughty words.  
**Pairing:** Logan & Veronica  
**Spoilers:** Up to the end of season one.  
**Summary:** After months of not seeing each other, Veronica ends up giving him a drive home. Everything that had been building between the two begins to boil over.  
**Author's Note:** I wrote this a while back during the summer but never had the chance to finish it. I came across it tonight and thought, 'Might as well get this thing completed. It beats doing homework!' Also, Rob Thomas is a genius. I own nothing.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

"Wallace, my brotha! You busy?"

_"No,"_ was his only response over the telephone. The tone in his voice suggested he wasn't responding to the question at hand, but that he already knew she was asking for a favor. And letting her know he wasn't a fool.

"Huh?"

_"Whatever it is you're asking for, the answer is no."_

This was going to be a little harder than she thought. "Come on BFF."

_"No way."_

"Do you know what those initials stand for?"

_"You're not conning me..."_

"They stand for 'Best Friend Forever'."

_"I'm not listening..."_

"Don't you think a best friend should help out _another_ best friend in a time of crisis?"

_"La la la la la..."_

"Well. . . since we're not BFF I could always go and tell Shelley Pomroy about that time in gym class when. . ."

"_Fine,"_ He drew in a deep breath before speaking. "_What do you need me to do?_"

She blurted it out as fast as she could. "Hide a rather intoxicated Logan Echolls in your mother's guest house for the night?" She closed her eyes tightly and waited for his inevitable blow-up. Wallace never got over his grudge for the rich 09er. He did, however, feel sympathy towards him for all of the junk his life had thrown at him.

That still didn't mean he had to like him.

"_You're joking… right? Please. Humor me_."

Veronica thought better if she remained quiet for once in her life.

He listened to him sigh over the phone. A moment went by where he was silent. Finally he spoke. "_OK. Bring him over."_

* * *

Two hours had passed as Logan lay passed out in the small guest house. Veronica sat in a folding chair and never took her eyes off of him. She was almost afraid of him disappearing into a cloud of smoke if he wasn't focused in her direct eyesight.

"Sorry about all the sand. I had to drag him all the way up Dog Beach to get him in my car," she said as Wallace walked around the room.

"It's cool. I'll just vacuum in the morning. Mom's a pretty big neat freak."

Never taking her eyes off of Logan she replied, "Isn't that how your mom found that big stash of Playboys under your mattress?"

"Shhhh! Keep that quiet girl."

"Why? He's not waking up anytime soon. I mean. . ._ look _at him." At that exact moment a loud snore erupted from Logan. Veronica had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing loudly. "He's three sheets to the wind."

Breathing in through his nose, he coughed as the strong odor of alcohol invaded in senses. "Ugh! Make that ten."

She could smell it too. "Possibly twenty," She reached for the quilt blanket beside her and stood up to cover Logan. Taking one last longing look at his weathered face she walked with Wallace to the front door.

"Thank you for doing this. I owe you." As she spoke her hand came to rest upon his; a gesture that had not gone unnoticed from Wallace. He smirked back at her show of 'thanks'.

"You owe me one too many. This one's on the house."

Veronica smiled back at her best friend, and then turned to look back at the young Echolls boy with a longing expression. Wallace didn't miss _that _either.

He couldn't understand it. "Why do you still care about him?"

Should she keep him in the dark and have him shielded? No, she thought. She and Wallace had been through too much to keep secrets now. So she chose to answer honestly. "I don't know."


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Warning Sign  
**Author:** Becca  
**Rating:** T for some naughty words.  
**Pairing:** Logan & Veronica  
**Spoilers**: Up to the end of season one.  
**Summary**: After months of not seeing each other, Veronica ends up giving him a drive home. Everything that had been building between the two begins to boil over.  
**Author's Note:** I wrote this a while back during the summer but never had the chance to finish it. I came across it tonight and thought, 'Might as well get this thing completed. It beats doing homework!' Also, Rob Thomas is a genius. I own nothing.

* * *

**Chapter Three**

It was noon before Logan woke up from his drunken stupor. A wave of nausea hit his senses as he attempted to sit upright.

_Where am I?_

He tried to get a grasp at his surroundings. Peering out the window he recognized Fennell's car out in the driveway. It doesn't surprise him. Veronica would've rather dropped dead than to drag his sorry caucus to her apartment where Daddy Dearest was. An ex-cop with a license to carry a concealed weapon was not his first choice to wake up to.

Taking another glance around the room he noticed the carefully placed items sitting on the coffee table next to him.

A bottle of water, two pills of Tylenol, his car keys and a note. After consuming the medication and guzzling down the drink he read what she had left him.

_Your car's out front. Wallace and I picked it up from Dog Beach. Don't puke on the floor._

_-Veronica_

"_That's Veronica for you_," he thought as he dropped the piece of paper back onto the table. As dizziness fell over him once more he sat back down and began to rub the roaring ache that was coming from the back of his eyes.

How much had he drunk that night? All he could remember was the smell of Jose Cuervo. Making sure he still had his wallet Logan reached into his pockets. It was there, along with three phone numbers from different women. He crumbled them into tiny balls of trash and threw them into the wastebasket.

As he picked himself from the aged couch to find a restroom he nearly tripped over the sleeping blonde who was resting just below him. Did she really stay here the entire night? Why?

"You owe her big time."

Wallace was standing at the front entrance looking bored with his presence. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and continued to stare at him.

"So what do you think I should do? Hmm? Bow down to the all-mighty God known as Veronica Mars?"

"No. But there's something you _can_ do to help her."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"Stay away from her."

Logan's face twisted in confusion. Was Fennell actually standing up to him? He had to be certain. "What?"

"You heard me. She doesn't need you in her life to bring her down. You're toxic."

"For your information, Shaft, _she _found _me_. I stayed away."

"Staying away? See that's the thing. You always manage to mess yourself up. And in some _mysterious_ way... she finds out and comes to your rescue. What a coincidence."

"Those big words of yours kind of turn me on Fennell…"

"_I'm serious_!" he yelled. "You put her through hell. Even before all of this mess you tortured her. So now what? _You're_ supposed to be victim in all of this?" He scoffed at him, and pointed his finger in anger before saying, "You're _lucky_ she still loves you."

"Oh yeah," he challenged. "And why's that?"

Stepping away from the door entrance, Wallace slowly stalked his way through the room. His angry stare never leaving his eyesight, the two men were face to face, nose to nose as he poked a finger at his chest for affect. His voice was low and threatening. "Because if I were given the opportunity? I would beat that smug look right off your face."

As Wallace took small steps forward, Logan began walking backwards until his back hit the wall. He was cornered, and for once, Logan was a little scared of this kid. His gaze became too intense for him to look at, so he turned his head to the side.

Wallace, fully anticipating his movements, cocked his neck to the side just as Logan moved his head. He wanted to make sure his words were heard loud and clear. "Veronica is my best friend. She's become a part of my family. You may not have been taught this as a kid, but when I was growing up, family is _everything_. We take care of each other. I will _not_ sit around and let some _punk_ like you string her around; be at your beck and call; to continuously clean up your messes. You feel me?"

Logan cleared his throat nervously and nodded. "Yeah, I feel you."


	4. Chapter 4

1**Title:** Warning Sign  
**Author:** Becca  
**Rating:** T for some naughty words.  
**Pairing:** Logan & Veronica  
**Spoilers**: Up to the end of season one.  
**Summary**: After months of not seeing each other, Veronica ends up giving him a drive home. Everything that had been building between the two begins to boil over.  
**Author's Note:** I wrote this a while back during the summer but never had the chance to finish it. I came across it tonight and thought, 'Might as well get this thing completed. It beats doing homework!' Also, Rob Thomas is a genius. I own nothing.

* * *

_THANK YOU guys for the messages, reviews, and for adding me to your favorites lists & story alerts. I never thought I could start this story up again. And because of all the positive response I felt the desire to keep going. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Veronica woke up just a few hours later, feeling refreshed and more well rested than she had in a long time. Nights would go by as she would lay in bed; wondering what he was doing; who he was with; wondering if he was _okay_. Her phone had been purposely placed on her pillow next her head. Each night she waited for his call. And each night came silence. It was deafening.

Rolling onto her back, she looked up at the ceiling, and a goofy grin spread across her features. Was her good night's sleep due to the fact that _he_ was nearby? That she knew exactly where he was? Quite possibly.

Wait a minute.

With a flash of lightning, she shot up in a sitting position. The couch was empty, but still warm as she tested the cushions with her hand. A wave of panic took over her body. _Where was he?_ She bolted to the window facing the front yard. His yellow X-Terra was still in its same sitting position by the curb. That's right; she had his keys in her pocket.

_Did he walk home?_ He was in no way, shape, or form to walk all the way across town. What if he got hit by a car? He wouldn't have any way of contacting her without his cell phone, which was still sitting on the coffee table. What if somebody saw him, half drunk and disheveled? The press would eat him alive. That was the last thing he needed. The more scenarios her mind could come up with, the more panicky she became. Why didn't she just take him home? This was a horrible idea, bringing him here . . .

Just as she was about to lose her mind completely, the sound of a running faucet from the bathroom filled the tiny guest house. It was sweet music to her ears. _Thank God._

She went to go knock on the door when Veronica began to taste the awful morning breath she had obtained. Glancing at herself at a nearby mirror, she was horrified at the way she looked. Her hair had begun to ball in a rat's nest in the back of her head, flakes of dried mascara had flicked off her lashes and onto her cheeks, and . . . was that _drool_ on her face?

Good God, she looked like she came straight out of the Night of the Living Dead.

The messenger bag sitting by the front door had her emergency kit; mouthwash, face wipes, body spray, and a hairbrush to name a few items.

Her phone began vibrating in her pocket as she put the finishing touches on her appearance. Reaching into her back pocket, panic began to strike her chest. She forgot to call Dad. _Crap._

She dreaded answering the phone as she hit the answer button. "Uh, hey Dad," She casually answered, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible.

She pulled the phone away from her ear for the inevitable yelling she knew was going to flow through. _"Don't give me that 'Hey Dad' crap. Where in the hell were you? I've been calling you for hours! I almost called _Lamb _of all people because I was so worried. _LAMB_, Veronica...," _

"I'm okay Dad. I just slept at Wallace's . . . "

_"I know,"_ he interrupted, his voice beginning to calm down._ "I traced the signal from your phone just before I ate part of that crow."_

"So, uh, how does it taste?" she humored him, and began pacing around the living room.

_"Don't joke about this, Veronica. I'm not laughing here."_

She squeezed her eyes shut as the guilt washed over her. Wincing at his words, Veronica felt as if someone punched her in the stomach. He probably spent the entire night wondering where she was. Her father, of all people, didn't deserve that. Not after what they've been through.

"I'm sorry, Dad," she spoke solemnly.

A moment went by where there was silence. It was a good ten seconds before she heard him sigh deeply into the receiver. "Just," he paused. She knew he was choosing his words wisely. "Just don't do this again. Now get home."

The two each spoke their goodbyes and the call ended. She wanted to smack herself silly for doing such a foolish thing. She had a lot of explaining to do when she arrived home.

"You must be a deep sleeper," a deep voice spoke from behind, and nearly caused her to jump right out of her own skin. She flipped around to find Logan standing there with this arms crossed in front of him. "I'm surprised you didn't wake up to Hurricane Wallace?"

She was a little confused. "Hurricane Wallace?" she repeated.

He shook his head. "Never mind. I, uh," he stuttered, and looked down at the floor, "I wanted to wake you, but, you looked so peaceful. Sleeping, I mean."

She couldn't speak. Her mind was reeling with so many thoughts that she couldn't process a single one. All she could do was nod and stare back at him.

The next three words out of his mouth took her thought process to a whole new angle. "I've missed you."

Veronica wanted to scream at him. Scream about anything and everything. The pain he had caused her, the sleepless nights, the drinking. Nothing at that moment would have satisfied her more than to open her mouth and shout from the rooftops.

But the look on his face stopped her. Not only the expressions on his face. But his _eyes. _

Being the daughter of a private detective and a former police officer, Veronica has learned a thing or two about the human emotion, and how they spoke volumes. It is an uncommon gift; only 5 percent of the population actually knew they have this talent and put it to good use.

She had enough people in her life lie straight to her face. It was much easier, now that she was older, to cut through the bull shit. But what is most important, she knew when someone was being genuine. And that was exactly what his eyes told her.

They were free from pretense. Free from affectation or hypocrisy. Most of all they were _sincere_. It had been _so long _since her gaze last fell upon a man, whose own intent stare wasn't _fake._

Logan remained still, watching as she stared back at him. He longed to brush those few strays of blonde hair away from her eyes, just as he had some so many times before. Each time his fingers would graze the soft, satiny texture of her cheek. He missed the tingling sensation his entire body felt, the way the warmth of her body would lick at his skin. He _yearned_ for it.

Instead he shoved his hands in his pockets, and wondered why she wasn't saying anything. The seconds went by as she said nothing. The silence in the room was not only driving him crazy, but slowly tearing his insides apart. He just said _he missed her_. For him, that was a big thing.

His voice suddenly became was thick with emotion. The near sight of her brought him to his knees. "Say something," he pleaded. His voice cracked ever so slightly. "Anything."

What was she doing? Why didn't she just _leave_ before he came out? She had the perfect opportunity. Her breathing became slightly labored as he took a few steps forward. His long limbs only needed baby steps before he was towering over her petite frame. A hand was placed on the small of her back, his other finally giving into temptation.

Veronica took a sharp intake of breath as the back of his hand brushed her side-swept bangs aside. Her eyes had never left his the entire time. A tingle tear rolled down her cheek. The pad of his thumb caught it midway down her cheek, and gently wiped it away. Not from the gesture, but from his own eyes beginning to brim.

"Veronica," he softly spoke. "Why couldn't you find me?"

The curve ball of an answer woke her out of her gaze. She shook his touch off of her and took a step back. "What?"

Somewhat regaining his composure, his quickly wiped his face clean and cleared his throat. His head hung low, and turned to the left. "You never... tried to find me. Not once, did you?"

She felt as if someone threw her into a tub full of ice. "What are you _talking_ about," she asked flabbergasted.

"Come on, Ronnie, don't play dumb here. We both know you're smarter than that." By now, he was slowly pacing back and forth, and speaking with his hands. "I may have been drunk off my ass last night, but I still remember the festivities," He paused for a short moment before adding, "somewhat."

She scoffed at his words as she looked down her feet, her arms crossing her chest. "Un_believable_. I have..."

Logan quickly cut her off. "Don't even start that. Don't _fucking_ start that!" He stalked towards her until her back hit the couch. His finger thrashed in front of her face as he spoke. "You can find any bailjumper at the drop of a hat. You never once gave up on Lilly until the case was solved. Hell, you put _my dad_ in jail. And yet, you couldn't find some poor little rich boy living in your own backyard? All you had to do was follow the money trail." He patted his pockets. "Where the hell is my flask?"

"I threw it away," she said coldly.

"That was _300 bucks_. Are you insane?"

"It's something you can afford. But you know what you _can't_ afford? Your health."

If he heard her speak, he ignored it. Logan talked right above her in a fit of anger. "And where the fuck are my keys? Did you throw those away too or did you shove 'em up your ass?"

She pulled them from her pocket and threw them at his chest angrily. She flung them with such force that she the sound actually echoed throughout the guest house. Grabbing her bag and keys from the table, Veronica stomped to the door. Just as she had the door cracked open, it was slammed shut from behind her. She looked up; Logan's arm stretched out above her, his hand sealed on the door.

His other reached for her arm, but she shoved him back, so hard in fact that he hit the wall. "Don't touch me. Don't _fucking _touch me!"

Opening the door once again, she was about to leave when he slammed the door shut once again. He'll be damned if she was going to leave him _again_. This had been brewing for far too long.

"No," he spoke sternly. "We're not leaving until we get this out in the open." He took her bag and keys without a fight this time, and threw them across the room.

She realized she was stuck. He outweighed her with a considerable amount of weight. But something else inside of her head kept telling her that she _wanted_ to stay. He was right; things _had_ been left up in the air with no resolution. If their issues kept festering, somebody was going to blow.

However, she was too angry and far too proud to admit that Logan Echolls was somehow right. She refused to give him that satisfaction. No way. She could only muster up one response.

"Fuck you," she spat out, and flung herself onto the couch.

He took a deep breath and exhaled. How in the hell was this conversation going to start?

_This is going to be a _long _day._


End file.
